


Words are for Twisting

by Ononymous



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Gen, Post-Undertale Pacifist Route, Silly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-01
Updated: 2019-03-01
Packaged: 2019-11-07 15:23:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17963099
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ononymous/pseuds/Ononymous
Summary: The universe is determined that its designs come to fruition. Sans knows nothing about this and wouldn't care if he did. And not about the other one either.





	Words are for Twisting

**Author's Note:**

> This was a prompt for a cancelled contest to write about steampunk.

A flash of light flooded the kitchen as the thunderstorm outside continued its sound and fury. Neither sound nor fury perturbed the one occupant as he continued to stare, the only internal sound being a rhythmic drumming as four bones tapped the table their owner sat at. His frozen grin had not moved in the physical sense, yet it would have been easy to discern the shifting emotions. This routine survived the distraction of the door opening.

"hey papyrus, i'm goin' to grillby's. want anything?"

"NO THANKS, SANS."

Sans regarded his brother a moment, sitting at the table and staring at an angle. He didn't pry however, Papyrus was cool enough that whatever he was doing didn't need unwarranted explanation. Instead he took out a pocketwatch from the waistcoat he was wearing, confirmed he wouldn't miss the lunch hour, and closed the door again. Much quicker than might have been expected, the door to Grillby's opened.

"'sup. usual, please."

"..."

"i know, i'm glad to see me too."

The crimson-painted contents of Sans' usual were as enjoyable as ever, though not quite as enjoyable as the groans and growls of Grillby's patrons at Sans' running commentary of their conversations.

"heh, more like _quack_ enstance."

"Arf?"

"oh geez, i misheard. sorry, pal."

Though he had finished his meal, there was no further communication between customer and cook. Instead a firey hand was adding another number to a long and slightly yellowed piece of paper.

"i'll square up next week, buddy," repeated Sans, "seeya."

"..."

Soon the door to Sans' bedroom opened, the front door of the house feeling that the order of events were slightly askew, and Sans descended the stairs, hands in pockets. One withdrew from its shelter having discovered a stowaway, and Sans was disappointed that instead of a gold coin it was a brass cog, much cleaner than one would expect a piece of machinery in regular use to be. With a shrug he returned it, and entered the kitchen again.

"HMM," grunted Papyrus in acknowledgement.

"Hey," said a second voice.

Papyrus hadn't moved since Sans went for lunch, but he was no longer alone. The Captain of the Royal Guard was now sitting alongside him, single yellow eye triangulating at whatever Papyrus was looking at.

"huh, not making much of a _splash_ today?"

"Nah," she said with a hint of impatience, "just helping your brother with something."

"with what?"

She didn't answer. Both she and Papyrus continued to look at something.

"welp," said Sans, unconcerned, "i'm gonna go to work. we need anything?"

"CAN YOU GET SOME MORE TOMATOES?"

"sure thing."

When the two humans sat down on the park bench and began to kiss each other, the patch of grass opposite them was vacant and undisturbed. By the time they had finished expressing their feelings to each other,, they looked up to see a sturdy wooden stand was now there, blanketed in snow which made no sense for the dreary spring day, even if the storm had blown itself out.

"'sup," said the incredibly gaunt occupant of the stand, "want a hot dog?"

Two hot dogs later, Sans had assumed his standard readiness posture. Two froggits playing in the nearby pond looked up to hear where the snoring was coming from.

"Ribbit?"

"Ribbit."

"Croak."

Satisfied, they dived beneath the surface in order to retrieve their brass submarine toy from the bottom of the pond and wind it up again. Meanwhile, Sans had a customer. Or at least, the customer was trying to make Sans have a customer.

"Hey, hey! I said wake up?"

"snrk- huh? oh, how's it going?"

"Busy," said the harried sounding Pyrope, "now can I please get me some fried snow?"

"course you can, dave. i take human cash now if that makes any _cents_ to you."

A gold coin clattered heavily onto the counter. "Haven't been able to get it changed yet."

"eh, this works too. here ya go." Sans took a cup of water from under the till and poured it into Dave's incandescent head, steam quickly rising from it.

"Ahhh," he sighed, "that hit the spot. Thanks, man."

"no problem. you got a loyalty card for my business?"

"No."

"you want one?"

"No thanks."

"good, i don't have any. have a nice day."

The afternoon was wildly successful for Sans after that point, being interrupted from his nap only twice more. But the streak finally came to an end, for the reminder function on his phone announced he was free to get back to what he really wanted to do, which was what he had already been doing, only on his living room couch. Pocketing the contents of the till and securing it with a wrench he found handy, his position in the park was soon as empty and undisturbed as it had been that morning. But it wasn't Sans' house that soon received him, it was the patch of street outside Grillby's.

"dang, almost forgot the tomatoes. woulda been weak _sauce_ to let my bro down like that."

Sans swung the restaurant door open and went inside. It didn't look like a restaurant anymore, however. While it had the same dimensions of the room he'd eaten his lunch in, the drinks behind the bar were of a much weaker kind. There were no tables or chairs, only shelves where groceries and miscellaneous sundries were stocked. The barstools were gone, though where they had once been anchored still had bases to screw them back in. The till was still there, though now in need of a clean from lack of use. Sans was totally undisturbed by these changes as he navigated through the aisles and behind the bar, operating it to deposit a few coins inside. It was then he noticed he wasn't alone.

"heya," he said, "outta chalk again?"

"Hmm," grunted the tall figure, refusing to face whoever was addressing her.

"figured the school'd have some."

"You'd be surprised."

"nah, just means i get to enjoy your company, missy."

"Whatever." Sans saw yellow teeth as she finally turned to him. "Just stay outta reach and you can enjoy whatever you want."

"'kay."

His customer continued her perusal, adding a few more conventional snacks to the chalk in her hand. Each motion of grabbing something felt a little forced, like his complete submission to her threat hadn't been expected, so she felt off balance and was trying to assert dominance. Soon her purchases were on the bar, lit up by a ray of autumnal sunlight.

"'s fourteen forty four, missy," said Sans. "an' your change."

"..." she said, clearly full of gratitude. Her schoolbag was stuffed, and her worn jacket made its way to the door.

"say hi to your principal for me. and any friends you make tomorrow."

A contemptuous bark of a laugh dared him to make her, and she left, slamming the door.

"nice kid. no need to be so _saur_ about everything though."

Business concluded, he grabbed the required tomatoes from the produce shelf and followed his customer out the door, before closing the front door of his house, hanging his top hat on the coat rack and entering the kitchen.

"hey pap, got the tomatoes. oh, hullo..."

Papyrus was still there, still staring. Undyne was also still there, also still staring. And now Asgore was in the room too, mighty hands behind his back as he leaned over at whatever it was the others were staring at, staring just as much as they were, the sideburns of his beard oddly pronounced while his tiny waistcoat strained from his posture. Sans kept up his record of not probing the now-rather-tense scene and put away his shopping. He had just grabbed a bottle of ketchup and was about to egress the scene when the tension finally snapped.

"NOW HONESTLY, IT'S UNFAIR FOR MY PATIENCE TO BE ABUSED LIKE THIS! HURRY UP!"

"Now now," said Asgore, pleasant smile ever fixed on his muzzle, "lost tempers don't find results."

A lone spark of curiosity blipped in the dark cavern of Sans' disinterest. "'kay, i'll bite. what are you guys so worked up about?"

"THE KETTLE," cried Papyrus, as though it were obvious, "IT STILL HASN'T BOILED!"

"Yeah," growled Undyne, finally venting her own frustration, "we just wanna see some steam, punk!"

In her workshop, Alphys looked up, followed by Mettaton and Doctor Gaster, downing tools on the small contraption made entirely of clockwork parts that was about to be installed in the prototype Zeppelin they had been working on. The device was intended to somehow use steam power to enable the airship to fly. She removed her goggles and began to clean her monocle, Gaster following her lead with his own eyewear while Mettaton took off his top hat with obvious irritation and stropped over to the Tesla coil. The three of them all had an inexplicable sense of feeling cheated out of something.

"oh, that's what's been _boiling_ ya? why just stare?"

"DON'T YOU KNOW THE SAYING, SANS? ' _A WATCHED KETTLE ALWAYS TOILS_ '! WE WERE ENCOURAGING IT!"

"huh. always heard that as 'never boils'."

"Nah," said Undyne, "I totally heard Aaron say it!"

"oh, okay. well anywho, lemme just..." He slipped in front of the king, unplugged the kettle and had a look. "ah. fuse is blown. doubt how much a kettle is watched will fix that."

"BAH!" He banged his bony fists on the table. "ALL THAT TIME SQUANDERED. AND NOW I CAN'T COOK OUR DINNER!"

"don't stress it, bro. i'll just order some p''e''zza. i got a coupon."

"Don't you mean pizza?" asked Undyne.

"yeah, that. want a slice?"

"Extra peppers, please," said Asgore.

So Sans ordered the food and, in a rare display of initiative, actually went and fetched it, returning customarily quickly with a box none of them recognised, but a delicious pizza to share with friends is a delicious pizza to share with friends regardless of its packaging. Just like clockwork.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not sorry.
> 
> Let me know what you think, and thanks for reading!


End file.
